


An Immodest Proposal

by Skylar_Matthews



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Body Horror, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, GRAPHIC DEPICTION, Gen, Gore, Horror, Other, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25597348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Matthews/pseuds/Skylar_Matthews
Summary: An insight into how Praxians care for their creations.
Relationships: Jazz & Prowl
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	An Immodest Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt request I was given. Enjoy!

The door slid open with an incredible clatter as a mech rushed into the apartment.

"Prowl!"

The addressed mech turned towards the entryway from his position on the couch just in time to catch sight of his visitor just before the Polyhexian mech tumbled to the floor. Prowl chuckled as he stood in an attempt to assist his friend. "Dare I ask what was so important that you are literally tripping over yourself in order to inform me of?"

His amusement vanished instantly when he reached the other and felt the worry in his field. "Jazz? What happened? Are you alright?"

Jazz groaned even as he stared up at his friend. "I'm fine but Blue isn't."

Prowl's wings shot up instantly. "What do you mean? What happened? Where is he? I have to call my partner; he was supposed to pick him up this time."

"Yeah, yer gonna want to figure out where that glitch is right away. You might still be able to save Blue if ya hurry."

Confusion crowded the concern in the Praxian's field and his wings followed suit before his frown could form. "What are you talking about?"

Before Jazz could respond, the front door slid open again. This time in came a mech who was several helms taller than either of them with sharper angles to his frame and visibly thicker plating. He seemed entirely at home until he noticed the Polyhexian. "Oh. I didn't know you were going to be visiting. How are you doing, Jazz?"

Jazz sprang to his pedes and rounded on the mech. "Don't ya dare gimme that sorta attitude. I know what sorta freak you are."

The mech glanced to Prowl with a confused expression. "Do you have any idea what he's going on about?"

"Not in the slightest," Prowl admitted. "If he were any other mech I would worry this behavior was brought on by illicit substances but I do trust that he does not engag in such activities."

"It's not drugs, Prowl," Jazz countered without even looking back. He stayed focused on the mech before him and refused to look even remotely intimidated despite the fact the other mech practically loomed over him by simple frame design alone. "This fragger here consumed your creation!"

Silence reigned for a few astroseconds before Prowl stepped in-between them. "Jazz, I believe you are mistaken."

"That's impossible. I watched him do it!"

This time the third mech was the one to break the short silence. "Me being here is probably a bad idea so I'm just gonna go wait in the office..."

Prowl agreed with a flick of his wings but Jazz was not having it. "No! You can't let him go. I watched him swallow Blue but he should be okay if we can make him spit him back up."

Prowl vented a deep sigh and had to physically push Jazz back and onto the couch. He sat beside him without ever releasing him; fearing what his friend might do if he did let go. "Jazz, calm down. I can explain."

"What are you saying, Prowl? Why can't you understand how horrible this is? You have to do something! Mechs like him /fuel/ on sparklings!"

"Jazz...."

Prowl's intended explanation was cut short by the cheerful shout of a young voice and a a tiny frame came running into the room. "Car'ier, car'ier! Want up!"

Prowl chuckled and reached down to scoop up the sparkling. "Welcome home, bitlet," he said while giving him a hug. "But you know you are supposed to ask for the things you want."

"Sorry, carrier..."

"Good. Now, will you say hello to our guest, Bluestreak?"

The sparkling nodded and turned to the visitor sharing the couch. "Hi, Jazz!"

"Hiya, Blue," Jazz replied but his tone and field were both still confused.

Task completed, Bluestreak looked at his carrier again with a new question. "Down please?"

Prowl hugged his creation tight once more and then let him down as requested. "Go play now but if you make a mess it needs to be cleaned up before we have energon tonight."

Bluestreak nodded and his tiny winglets wobbled in assent as well. Then he ran off down the hall to the berthrooms. Jazz just watched in silence until Bluestreak was well out of sight before he turned to Prowl and spoke, dumbfounded. "He looks just fine..."

"Of course he is," Prowl agreed.

"But I saw him get consumed."

"Why were you even there? It was not your turn to pick him up."

"I knew ya had to work late an' I didn't want him to be stuck there all alone."

Prowl vented slowly. "So you showed up without warning and saw something you were not intended to see."

"Why are ya not worried about this?" Jazz demanded. "He swallowed your creation!"

"Jazz, please..." Prowl paused, waiting for him to sit down again but when Jazz did not, he continued anyway. "This is truly not as horrible as you believe it to be."

"I can't believe you would say that. I thought you loved yer creation. I thought your kind cared about sparklings!"

"Jazz, sit."

The tone he used seemed to finally get through and the Polyhexian did so automatically. He even waited in silence for Prowl to explain.

"Of course I love Bluestreak and I refuse to believe you might actually consider otherwise. And yes, Praxus and her people do also love sparklings but I do not see why you conflate those ideas as opposition to what you saw."

"Huh?" Jazz even tipped his helm to the side as the simple question slipped out.

"You will not like what I have to say."

"It can't be any worse than what I have ta imagine."

Prowl paused to vent deeply. "Think about the times you have helped me bring Bluestreak anywhere. It is rarely as simple as the holovids make it out to be and it gets much, much harder for solo creators or even simply when one creator must take a sparkling out somewhere alone. At least, such is the case in most cities, yes?"

"I guess that makes sense," Jazz commented but the confusion in his field did not waver even slightly. "I know I wouldn't wanna try an' cart around more than one sparklin' at a time."

"Yes, many mechs share that sentiment," Prowl agreed. His wings twitched in a nervous gesture behind him despite the forced calm in his field. "There are, however, plenty of mechs who are unperturbed by such difficulties. What about your friend, Blaster? He has several creations and you said he has raised them alone for most of their lives."

"Tha's true but he's not like us. He's got a special frame-type so he can just pull 'em up into his chest whenever he needs."

"Yes," Prowl said, "I believe they call him a carrier class model?"

"How'd ya know that? You only met the mech once."

"You both might be from another city but I understand the basic frame design for such things. There is a certain build required in order to house frames within one's own and he was the closest I had seen to it since leaving Praxus."

Jazz jerked in surprise. "Yer tellin' me there's mechs like him in Praxus?"

"Oh yes. In fact, most of us share that ability with him."

"But how? Blue ain't no cassette."

"No, he certainly is not but that is only a minor design difference in our frame types," Prowl explained.

“Prowler, ya ain’t a cassette either.”

“Obviously,” Prowl agreed.

“Then what d’ya mean? Yer not makin’ much sense.”

“All right, let’s try it this way. Much like how your friend is designed to house his cassettes, there are other bots designed to house sparklings in their own frames, albeit far more temporarily. Most, if not all, Praxians have that functionality in fact."

"So what's yer mate's excuse then?" Jazz asked.

"Well given that he is also Praxian I do not see what other explanation is required."

"He's Praxian?!"

"I do not see why this is such a surprise to you. We even moved here together."

"I just assumed ya two met somewhere and moved in together before movin' here."

"You are not entirely incorrect. The city where we met was Praxus though, which seems to surprise you for some reason I can not comprehend."

"Well he don't exactly look like he from there ya know?"

"I'll agree it is strange that he does not wear his wings out much ever since we moved but we did decide together that the risk was lowered if only one of us had what is essentially a giant target on their back."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Jazz agreed before a curious interest drowned out anything else in his field. "Why have ya never told me any a' this before?"

"It was not relevant previously."

Jazz seemed to take that in stride and it was not long before he spoke again.

"So..." Now his tone was conspiratorial. "Ya said all Praxians are basically carrier class. Does that mean even you?"

"Even me," Prowl agreed. "However, before you bother to ask the answer is no; I will not show you."

"But why not?"

The Praxian huffed an ex-vent and purposefully twitched his sensorwings. "Oh, do not pout at me, you know it makes you look ridiculous."

Jazz did not seem to care, or else he was weaponizing that very aspect because he continued to pout until Prowl found himself speaking again.

"I will not show you because I have been told that those who are not Praxian find it utterly disturbing," Prowl replied. "And given how panicked you were when you showed up here earlier, clearly there is some accuracy to that statement."

Now Jazz took a turn huffing. "I was freaked out 'cause I thought yer sparklin' had been consumed. I didn't even get a good view a' what happened; just that lil' Blue vanished inside a' him. Whatever it is can't be that bad."

"I have been assured it most certainly is."

"You should know something like that just sounds like a challenge ta me."

“And you should know that I have a rather accurate estimation of what you can and can not handle.”

“C’mon, Prowler,” Jazz tried by whining next. “You can’t tell me ya got some crazy ability and expect ta /not/ show me. That just ain’t fair!”

Prowl vented a sigh. “You are not going to stop, are you?”

“Nope!”

Prowl had to fight back the smirk that wanted to betray his internal amusement and he kept both his expression and tone schooled as neutrally as possible. “There will be one condition.”

As expected, Jazz didn’t react worried about that. “You jus’ name it.”

“You are not to fault anyone but yourself over this when you discover I was correct.”

Jazz laughed. “If, Prowler. ‘If you were correct.’”

“Oh, I will be,” Prowl assured him with a chuckle of his own. He sent a comm to his mate then to send Bluestreak back out and ignored Jazz’s smirk of foolish determination.

The youngling soon appeared, rushing into the living room to hug his carrier’s leg. “Sire said you wanted me?”

“I do, bitlet.” Prowl smiled down at him before scooping the youngling into his arms, and then onto his lap. “Jazz wants to see how we take you places when it is only your sire or I. Will you help me show him?”

Bluestreak turned to look at Jazz before turning a confused expression at Prowl. “But outsiders aren’t a’pposed to see! You an’ sire told me that.”

“And that is true for most of them but Jazz is practically family. Is family allowed to see?”

Bluestreak started for a moment as he thought about it then nodded. “Secrets are bad for families.”

“That they are, bitlet,” Prowl agreed. He hugged Bluestreak. “So, will you help me show Jazz this now?”

“Okay!”

“Good. Now show me your wrist.”

Bluestreak did so as Prowl opened his mouth and reached inside. He pulled out a thin data cable that he then plugged into the youngling’s data port. There was one moment where Prowl got to look over Bluestreak’s helm at Jazz before it began.

The youngling’s frame twisted and contorted, folding in on itself lengthwise while simultaneously growing his height by almost double. Prowl kept his optics locked on Jazz’s visor as he tipped his helm back. A seam opened along his jawline that allowed his entire helm to separate to a 180 degree angle, leaving a gaping maw, which desired an offering. He easily picked up the writhing mass that had once been Bluestreak and brought that above what had once been his helm. The youngling’s mass slipped away into the yonic void as easily as solvent slid down a drain and within astroseconds there was nothing left of him to be seen. 

Only then did Prowl hitch his helm back into place; the seam vanishing instantly. “Well,” he began slowly, drawing out the question. “What did you think of that?”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if it was a bit patchy, this did not get a proper edit before posting.


End file.
